Found in Translation

by Roger Bruner

  chapter fifty-five

  Day 13

  Now that the litter cleanup was days in the past and progress in the reading of Lucas was good—I would easily finish today and perhaps read some other scripture after that—I began thinking about the changes I’d witnessed. Especially in myself.

  I was no longer the spoiled young lady who’d left her safe, comfortable home in Georgia with a bunch of good intentions and too much luggage and ended up in the wilds of Santa María. I had discovered the hard way that I needed to align my plans with God’s rather than expect Him to rubber-stamp mine.

  I wasn’t my usual carefree self anymore, either. No, not my “usual carefree self,” but my “usual care-only-for-myself self.” The lessons I’d begun learning at the House of Bread about caring for others had been a mere drizzle, a trickle, a baby beginning that ran amuck because I’d relied on myself and not God. Now God-engineered, major-flood lessons in agape love had washed over me daily and started to overflow to the other people my life touched.

  Although most of the team members had matured some, Geoff’s transformation was probably even more dramatic than mine. He may have started out a useless lump of fool’s gold, but God remade him into the real thing—twenty-four sparkling karats’ worth.

  He’d taken some seriously bad risks trying to get my attention. If I hadn’t loved and accepted him, his guilt would probably have crippled him beyond repair. But God didn’t want Geoff to live that way, and He wouldn’t let me ignore or reject him.

  Not only did he become one of the hardest workers, he also did a one-eighty in his attitude toward Aleesha and the villagers. In turn, he began earning their love and respect.

  He and I talked frequently and more freely than before, and our conversations were pleasant and positive. Although his high school conversion had been genuine, his emotional and spiritual immaturity had prevented him from saying no to the friends he’d trusted.

  Geoff had already sought and accepted God’s forgiveness, but I wasn’t sure he’d forgiven himself. He hadn’t surrendered his guilt.

  I hoped he’d do that soon, and I’d help anyway I could.

  I still believed in avoiding mission-trip romances, but—now that I knew Geoff was a Christian with much to offer in the building of God’s kingdom—I had to fight off the temptation to ignore my own rule. He didn’t pressure me about my stubborn refusal to get romantic.

  Doggone it, though! That just made him all the more desirable.

  Anjelita must have sensed that we were leaving the next morning, even before she noticed team members gathering their belongings. She clung to me as if that might keep me in Santa María and walked so close I almost tripped over her on our way to the mess tent for supper. I wished my suitcase were big enough to carry her and Rosa home in. How much would that kind of overweight baggage cost? I giggled at the thought.

  We enjoyed our last supper together. Anjelita ate a small can of meat for a change, but I had beef jerky again. Plus a can of pork ‘n’ beans. Breakfast tomorrow would probably be the last jerky I’d eat in a long time if my father had anything to say about it. I’d eaten it three times daily for twelve days and enjoyed every chewy, challenging bite. Only a dog’s rawhide chew would have made my jaws, teeth, and gums stronger and healthier.

  Although I was actually looking forward to pizza again—perhaps at the airport—I wished I could share the experience with Rosa and Anjelita. Does Mexican cuisine have anything comparable to pizza? Although the villagers would have hosted us royally if they’d been in a position to, I couldn’t believe we’d spent two weeks in Mexico without a single bite of authentic Mexican food.

  But we hadn’t come to Mexico to eat. We’d come to work, and—to the best of my knowledge—we’d fulfilled our assignment. We did what God asked. We reached out to the residents of this tiny community in every way we could. We shared their joys and learned to understand some of their hardships.

  Although Santa María might remain unknown to census takers and tax collectors—they would never find it without knowing its GPS coordinates—it would remain in our hearts forever. The villagers had become almost as important to us as our own families—and in some ways, more important.

  We couldn’t stay in Santa María, though. Despite a job well done, we probably couldn’t accomplish anything else. Besides, we were tired and ready to go home.

  “It’ll be great to get back to civilization.”

  “I want to see my family again, even my bratty little sister.”

  “I’m going to take a hot bath and soak in the tub all day.”

  “I can hardly wait to wash my hair.”

  “I want to eat hot, freshly prepared meals. And coffee … give me coffee. I’ll bathe in it.”

  “Forget coffee. I want an ice cold soda—with lots of crushed ice.”

  “I want to wear clean clothes, ones I haven’t done sweaty work in, and go hang out with my friends.”

  “Give me my bed again. I’ll sleep for a week.”

  But each desire to go home had a matching lament.

  “These villagers are some of the finest people I’ve ever known.”

  “I wish they lived where I could see them every day.”

  “No matter how hard we’ve worked, this has been a mountaintop experience. I dread coming back down.”

  “How can I just leave the villagers behind? They’re my second family now.”

  But more than anything else, team members shared my concerns over the villagers’ spiritual needs.

  “We’ve helped meet their physical needs, but what about the spiritual ones?”

  “We couldn’t give our testimonies, yet I believe they would’ve been receptive if we’d been able to talk with them.”

  “I sure hope Kimmy’s reading of Luke got through to them. At least to one person, anyhow.”

  “I’ll keep praying for the villagers, but that doesn’t seem like enough.”

  “If only we knew we could come back sometime …” “Or some other Christian group …”

  “Lord, let there be a translator next time … and let there be a next time. Please.”

  Just as I’d become part of Rosa’s family, every team member had adopted one or more villagers. Although nobody set out to befriend anyone in particular, God brought us together in a mutually comfortable and comforting way. Every villager had a close friendship with one or more team members.

  Despite the language barrier, we’d somehow communicated our love, concern, and acceptance to these needy people. But we weren’t missionaries “up here” working with our target group “down there.” We were peers—equals in our humanity—and the villagers’ pained expressions indicated the depth of their grief over our leaving.

  But if we’d completed our assignment, why did we feel like we were walking out on an unfinished task? Did seed planters always pay that kind of price? If God hadn’t assigned me to read the Gospel of Luke to the villagers, I would have been only a groundbreaker—a tiller of unfamiliar soil—not a sower of the world’s most important seeds.

  At least we’d finished building the cottages, though. Knowing the villagers would be snug and dry during the upcoming rains was good.

  After we finished eating, Anjelita crawled onto my lap and wrapped herself around me in a grip an octopus would have envied.

  A few minutes later, Rob used my karaoke system to address the group. “I’ve arranged for a semi and a smaller truck to come with the buses tomorrow. Among other necessities, they’ll bring small livestock.”

  “Livestock, as in chickens and goats,” Charlie chimed in. “And in case you’re not country folk, those animals give eggs and milk.”

  I couldn’t resist. “Goats that lay eggs? Chickens that give milk? Where’d you get such special animals, anyhow?”

  Everyone—Charlie included—cracked up. “I’m like a reporter, Kimmy. I don’t reveal my sources. If the villagers don’t know how to raise livestock, at least they’ll enjoy some tasty eating till the anim
als are all gone.”

  Somebody gave a loud cackle that sounded amazingly like a hen fighting to prevent her imminent beheading. Someone else bleated like a goat running for its life, and the rest of us started making one sound or the other.

  I’d never heard the villagers laugh so hard.

  “The semi is also bringing seeds and garden tools. Plus young vegetable plants that can provide food within a matter of weeks. We haven’t seen any evidence that these folks are gardeners or small farmers, but we’ll take a chance they can figure out what to do. Churches and individuals throughout southern and middle California are also donating additional food, staples, water, clothes, and household items. Maybe enough to require a second semi.”

  We cheered enthusiastically.

  “But there won’t be any beef jerky this time,” Rob said as he winked at me.

  I was the only person who didn’t cheer. I played the good sport and smiled, though.

  The semis would bring paint, brushes, and rollers. Charlie couldn’t stand the incomplete look of the unpainted houses, and he’d used his own contacts north of the border to get generous donations. I suspected that Rob and Charlie contributed heavily from their own personal resources.

  I’d been listening to Rob so intently that I didn’t notice Anjelita loosen her grip and lay her head against my shoulder. Her fatigue and full tummy overcame her stress sooner than I’d expected.

  About twenty minutes later, Rosa came to take her home. The linens and blankets we’d brought would probably be their only beds for quite some time. I doubted that any of the villagers had ever slept in an American-style bed. I got teary-eyed about how little I knew about Rosa, Anjelita, and the other villagers. Would I ever have my questions answered?

  I’d never seen Anjelita openly defy her mother, but when Rosa started to pick her up, she woke up just enough to wrap herself around me once again and start bawling. I didn’t have to be an expert on children to know she was too tired and sleepy to know what she was doing.

  Witnessing the struggle between Anjelita and her mom didn’t make things any easier for me, though. After several unsuccessful efforts, I hand-motioned to Rosa that I’d bring Anjelita home once she was sound asleep.

  I was desperate to pray, and no one was close enough to distract me. I had so many things I needed to talk to God about, and I didn’t want to leave any of them out. I started by praying for each villager by name.

  But like Jesus’ disciples when He asked them to pray for Him in the garden of Gethsemane, I fell asleep. I probably didn’t finish praying for ten villagers first.

  I didn’t stay asleep long. Fortunately, Anjelita did.

  “Kimmy, are you awake?” I heard the sounds of whispering as a hand gently nudged my uninjured arm.

  Being roused from my prayerful nap disoriented me so much I thought the whisperer was Aleesha. Aleesha with a guy’s voice. She was a more convincing actress than I’d realized.

  “Kimmy, I’m sorry. I hate to bother you, but I thought this might be my last chance to catch you.”

  “Aleesha? How do you get your voice so low?”

  “Kim, it’s Geoff, not Aleesha. Can … may I talk to you just a few minutes, please?”

  Yawning and stretching with Anjelita’s head on my lap wasn’t simple.

  “Sure, Geoff. I was praying. Trying to, anyhow. Please be super-careful not to wake Anjelita up. Okay? I thought she’d never loosen her grip long enough to go to sleep.”

  “I’ll be careful, Kimmy. She looks so sweet. I grew up an only kid, so I wasn’t around younger children at home. I wish I had a kid sister like Anjelita, though.”

  “Me, too, Geoff. So, what’s up?” I hated rushing him to the point, but I was so out of it I could barely focus.

  “I couldn’t leave tomorrow without telling you—without trying to explain—what you’ve meant to me. Whenever I think about how I acted last week, I get embarrassed all over again.”

  “No need for that. Everything’s fine between us now. That’s all that matters.” What I’d said was true. Almost. But would he apologize?

  “I’m glad. God has forgiven me many times over for my sins of the past few years, but it’s hard to forgive myself and put them out of my mind.”

  “I understand.” I was more awake now … more alert.

  “I thought you might. There’s one thing I haven’t done yet, though. I need to do it, and I hope it’ll make me feel better.”

  And was he going to …? “What’s that, Geoff?”

  “Just saying how guilty I’ve felt isn’t enough. I know you’ve forgiven me, but I’ve never actually apologized ….”

  My heart beat a mile a minute at this final step in making things right. “Geoff, that’s really nice of you, but what do you need to apologize for?” I hoped the slight bit of playfulness in my voice wouldn’t sound like I took his apology lightly.

  “What do I need …? You—” He stopped abruptly, hesitated for a moment, and then started grinning. Tentatively at first, but then it grew and grew and grew. Like Pinocchio’s nose. Not because of lies, though. But because of truth. “Have you ever talked with Uncle Rob about forgiveness, Kimmy?”

  “Sure enough. As far as the east is from the west … ”

  “Thanks, Kimmy.”

  “I need your forgiveness, too.”

  “Huh?”

  “I should’ve reset my counter to zero without waiting for an apology.”

  He couldn’t have looked more confused.

  “Never mind, Geoff. Things are great now.”

  “That’s all I needed. You two sleep tight.”

  He gave me a brotherly peck on the cheek, clicked his flashlight on, and held his head high as he headed toward the boys’ campsite. I must have fallen asleep again almost instantly. About forty-five minutes later, I woke up to a flashlight shining in my face.

  “Why is the sunrise so bright today?” That’s how dazed I was.

  “Come on, sleepyheads ….” The familiar voice was unusually quiet. Although Aleesha had addressed her words to both of us, she intended to awaken only me.

  She’d come to check on me because I wasn’t “home” at dark. She lifted Anjelita’s head without waking her, picked her up, and slung her over her left shoulder. How would I have kept my promise to Rosa without Aleesha’s help? I giggled quietly at seeing Aleesha carry Anjelita like a sack of potatoes.

  I couldn’t see Aleesha’s face, but she was undoubtedly shaking her head at this silly girl and her ability to laugh without apparent motivation. At least growing in my concern about others hadn’t required me to give up my sense of humor. Or anything else that was worthwhile, for that matter.

  Rosa must have been listening for us. She opened the door before we could knock. She lifted Anjelita from Aleesha’s shoulder and put her down on a blanket in the right rear corner of the room. Rosa’s blanket was so close to Anjelita’s that the sides touched. In the beam of Aleesha’s flashlight, I saw a pile of paper and an ink pen on top. Hmm …

  Aleesha and I dropped to our knees at the foot of Anjelita’s blanket—I didn’t need to guard against rocks indoors—and watched Rosa wrap her daughter snugly. I planned to leave the air mattress and sleeping bag for Anjelita and Rosa if Rob didn’t mind.

  Maybe I wouldn’t even ask. As I’d heard my mom say a million times, it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission. How many times had I stretched the limit doing that? If I knew Rob half as well as I thought I did, though, I wouldn’t need his forgiveness for this.

  Aleesha’s tiny LED flashlight was the only light source in the room, although I saw the reflection of a hurricane lamp and smelled a bit of lamp oil. Were those part of the emergency supplies we’d brought?

  Carefully avoiding Anjelita’s eyes, Aleesha shone her beam on the youngster’s lower face. A pretty youngster now, she’d grow up to be as stunning and beautiful as Rosa.

  Aleesha and I scooted on our knees toward the head of Anjelita’s blanket, and each of us kissed he
r.

  She smiled in her sleep.

  chapter fifty-six

  Day 14

  Up and at ‘em, girlfriend!”

  I moaned in fatigue. Last night’s sleep, although solid and unbroken, hadn’t left me feeling rested.

  “Go away.”

  Although Aleesha could hide her emotions better than anyone I’d ever met, she didn’t try this time. Hurt feelings hardened her normally relaxed look. She should have realized I would never speak to her that way intentionally, but she made me feel as awful as if I’d meant to.

  “Aleesha, I’m so sorry. You know I wouldn’t yell at you if I was awake enough to know what I was saying.”

  Her face brightened with the same smile of forgiveness I’d seen on many faces the past two weeks. Thank You, Jesus, for modeling perfect forgiveness.

  “I know, Kim … Kimmy … Kim. I just can’t call you Kimmy—makes you sound like a little kid or something.”

  “Or something? Like a little puppy? Or a little kitten? Or maybe a tiny baby bird?”

  “Or something,” she repeated as her mouth curled into a new smile.

  “Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?”

  “Forgiven you for what?”

  “I … you’ve been talking to Rob?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have. He’s been giving me lessons in forgiveness, and I just used one of the tricks he taught me. He’s pretty okay for some old dude.”

  We laughed together as we’d done so often. Although Scarlett was right about tomorrow being another day, my tomorrow would dawn without Aleesha’s encouragement. I’d wake up at home in my own bed, and I’d shoot my parents if they got me up at dawn the way Aleesha had done every day.

  Or maybe I’d reach out and hug them the way Anjelita had clung to me last night. Even though I’d never been a bad girl, Mom and Dad had put up with a lot from me over the years.

  I felt like I’d aged during the past two weeks. I’d started avoiding mirrors for fear I looked older, too. I’d have to start from scratch on my beautification practices.